


some sort of lezzie wet dream

by cassandralied



Category: Black Swan (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Dubious Consent due to Drugs, F/F, Femslash, Gaslighting, Hallucinations, Hate Sex, Manipulation, eating disorder mention, kind of, nina's eating disorder briefly mentioned, villain!Lily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26642899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassandralied/pseuds/cassandralied
Summary: She’s done enough damage — there’s no need to go further.But Lily loves upping the ante almost as much as she loves needy, whiny little bitches who don’t know when to shut the fuck up.--The sex scene between Lily and Nina wasn't a hallucination. Lily just wants her to think it is.
Relationships: Lily (Black Swan)/Nina Sayers
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	some sort of lezzie wet dream

By the time they’re in the cab, Lily’s got Nina exactly where she needs her to be. More than loosened up, she’s wanting — the handful of men she’d been going in and out of bathrooms with clearly hadn’t been enough for the little ballerina. She keeps looking at Lily with those big, dark, doe eyes, all needy.Without sobriety to keep that icy bitch exterior, Nina’s the most expressive person in the world: lips pressed together, thighs shifting against each other, eyes never leaving Lily.  
(she’d bet her ballet shoes that Nina’s panties —pink or white, undoubtedly lace — are wet right now)

Lily tiptoes her fingers over to Nina’s thigh, then a little farther. Then she slips her fingers under the band of those leggings. Nina rolls her head back like she’s in a dream, and Lily tries not to laugh. This is the Swan Queen? This, the bitch that had stolen the role? The perfect, uncrackable girl, Beth’s successor, Thomas’s new princess?  
This is _nothing._  
Lily plunges her hand into Nina’s cunt, and Nina moans, a choked-off cry that sounds like a crescendo to Lily’s ears. She’s done enough damage — there’s no need to go further.  
But Lily loves upping the ante almost as much as she loves needy, whiny little bitches who don’t know when to shut the fuck up.

“Change of plans,” she orders to the cabbie, leaning forward —Nina tries to follow her, grinding desperately up into her hand. She is wet through those panties, wet and hot and tight. “We’ll just be making one stop.”

Watching Nina scream at her mother loosens something inside of Lily, some kind of relief, and she’s laughing like a teenager when Nina drags them into her room and blocks the door. “I’m not twelve anymore!” she screams, effervescent in her breakdown, and Lily thinks about the dried slick on her fingers. _You sure aren’t, chicky._

“Kiss me,” Nina begs, all wild-eyed. “Lily, please,” and shit, Lily half wants to snap out of it and humiliate her right there, but it’s her love for the long game (and that _you hung the moon_ look in Nina’s eyes) that convinces her otherwise.

“Yeah, baby,” Lily breathes, cupping Nina’s cheeks in her hands. “I got you.”  
She kisses Nina like an orchestra at full volume, like violin strings snapping and bones shattering, and Nina, clumsy and sloppy and drunk and high, moans in what is practically falsetto. Bites her way down Nina’s neck, oh, she hopes she leaves marks, something for Thomas to look at tomorrow, try covering this up with a scarf, bitch, and Nina’s hands grip so tightly onto Lily’s shoulders that there could quite reasonably be blood.

“I love…your tattoo…” Nina pants as Lily licks and kisses her way down those anorexic collarbones. “Those wings…you should be the Swan Queen.”  
Lily freezes with her mouth pressed to the skin of Nina’s throat. It’s the words she’s been dying to hear, but they sound all wrong coming out of the other ballerina’s pretty mouth.

“What?”  
“I said, you should be the —”  
Lily shoves Nina onto the bed to shut her up.

“Kiss me,” she orders, and Nina laughs, carefree, like this is fun, like this is _nothing_ , and obeys, peppering feather-light virginal kisses all over Lily’s cheekbones, her forehead, her mouth. Practically snarling, seething, Lily tilts Nina’s chin up and deepens the kiss.

Nina tastes like hard alcohol, like drugs and the inside of seedy bathrooms and seedier men, but under all that she tastes like bubblegum and candy, pastels and babydoll clothes she’ll never grow out of, and Lily wants her _dead_ , and Lily wants _more_.

She pulls her own shirt over her head, and Nina’s follows. She almost misses the way that Nina’s eyes trace over her skin, down her ribcage (this is what a girl who eats looks like, honey) and down to the black panties poking out of her jeans. Lily grins like a lion about to feast and shimmies off the jeans in one go. She’s so glad she wore matching lingerie tonight.

“Lily —”  
“Shut up.” She yanks Nina’s legs wide and apart and lowers herself to that elusive little cunt, the one with the power to make a frigid bitch a prima ballerina. _The Black Swan is about seduction,_ Thomas had said, and all that seduction seemed to be resting right between those skinny thighs.

Like some kind of stripper, Lily makes the effort to drag Nina’s panties off with her teeth, as if Nina’s remotely sober enough to notice. She notices when Lily presses her mouth to her cunt, though, in a hot sticky kiss that’s both affectionate and claiming. Lily imagines she’s taking that seductive power for herself as she devours Nina’s cunt. Like she’s eating her alive, strip by strip, until there’s nothing left but cracked bones devoid of marrow in a ballerina dress. _We’re eating swan tonight, bitch._

Nina shouts when she comes, her thighs clenching tight around Lily’s head, and Lily thinks, _yeah, thinks I bet you never came like that with Thomas, or by yourself in your pink princess bedroom with no lock on the door_. Lily glances up, and seeing her face makes Nina scream, high and shrill, confused and terrified.  
It’s the scream that makes Lily reach her hand down to her own cunt, palming herself roughly through the cheap lace. “Sweet girl,” she coos, makes a big show of licking off her other hand, and poor drug-addled Nina’s staring at her like she’s the devil and it’s the hottest thing Lily’s ever seen.

* * *

Lily finishes the dance and rushes over to Nina, all wide-eyed with false concern. Nina’s wrapped her scarf even tighter around her neck than usual and foregone her stiff bun for a loose ponytail. The porcelain doll has cracked.  
“Why did you leave in the morning?” Nina demands, eyes brimming with tears, and it’s an effort not to laugh in her stupid, silly face.

“Leave in the — Nina, do you think we slept together?”  
She wants to lick those tears out of Nina’s anime-doll eyes. She wants to score her nails down Nina’s cheeks again and again until her skin is nothing but tattered ribbons.

Instead, cruel Lily smiles. “You had some sort of lezzie wet dream about me?”

Nina gapes at her.

“Oh my god, you did! You fantasized about me!” she pretends to gasp. “Was I _good_?”

It’s not the same look from last night, the one that made Lily come, but it’s close enough to satisfy her. Nina runs past her like a little girl about to cry, and Lily stifles her grin and calls, “Nina, wait!”  
The little princess ignores her to run up to Thomas, desperate and full of horror and shame.

Lily licks her lips as if she can taste the last of Nina’s terrified sweetness still on her tongue.


End file.
